It
was a lazy summer afternoon much like any other. The birds were singing in the
trees, the sky was blue and Mr Sharp's greyhound 'Admiral' was seen humping
that abandoned push chair near the level crossing again. The world was right
and God was in his Heaven planning a new round of mysterious moves.
Your intrepid artist was in his studio writing the first a trilogy of songs entitled 'Darling, I Miss You But My Aim Is Getting Better', when the 'Elvis' phone leapt into life. I ambled over to the phone, all the while watching the little model King on it's summit pull down it's trousers, place itself on the toilet and then keel over to the tune of 'A Little Less Conversation'. I lifted the receiver and placed it to my ear.
It was the promoter of the Spectrum Club, a place I was due to play that very evening (Thursday the 12th of Sept). He had called to say that I had been BANNED by Camden Council. No lie! Yours truly has been BANNED from playing in Camden for reasons yet unknown.
My first reaction? Bemusement, the second, er...still bemusement I'm afraid.
So as it stands, Simon Walsh (for it is I) is currently unable to play in ANY venue in Camden for the foreseeable future. The Council have promised to attend on the night I was due to play to make sure I don't appear. Maybe I've grabbed the wrong end of the stick and have been caught beating around the bush without a leg to stand on. Your guess is as good as mine.
I replaced the receiver (hmmm, good name for a band that!) and called my co-writer Rob to explain the situation. As usual, I had got him out of the bathroom where he had been waxing his legs. His reply was simple;
'Cool! Fantastic!! You're officially a rebel, an outlaw, banished from civilised life and forced to live life on the edge using only your wits and fists against the cold hard world'. I agreed wholeheartedly with his statement and said that as soon as I'd finished my cappuccino, I'd take my fight to the streets!
So there you have it my little coppers and robbers. I now live outside the law, I have gone over to the Darkside, I'm Magpie to everybody else's Blue Peter. From now on, I intend to dress exclusively in black and sneer when I sing (possibly in the bathroom as it looks like the only venue in London that will allow me). The reason may never be clear as to why Camden have treated me so. We can only hope that somehow I can pull through this dark time in my career and pray that I don't split up due to the intense personal pressure.
Maybe they don't like my pants. I suppose I should buy another pair soon.
I remain, shrouded in dry ice, with eerie music echoing all around my pale little body.
Simon 'Eminem' Walsh.